My first attempt at SP fic writing. Each short will feature a random pairing or set of characters. (Probably centering around the main four, mostly.) And I don't write slash, I write friendship. But you can look at it as slash if you want.
life∙line (līf'līn')
-noun
A diagonal line crossing the palm of the hand and believed to indicate the length and major events of one's life
Characters/pairings: Stan, Kyle, Kenny, Cartman
A/N: I didn't know where to start, so I used watchout4snakes' random word generator and it gave me 'lifeline.' I tried to have fun with it. xD
"Guys, guys!" cried Stan, trudging excitedly through the snow-coated ground. He was the last to make it to the bus stop that morning.
"Dude, Stan, where're your gloves?" asked Kyle, noticing first his best friend's bare hands.
"I learned the coolest thing yesterday," said Stan, ignoring Kyle's question as he reached the other three. He presented them his hands, palms faced up. "See the lines on our palms? D'you know they can determine things about your life? It's called palm reading, I read about it on the internet. My palms say I'm gonna live a prosperous life!"
"Palm reading? Stan, that's bullcrap," snapped the biggest of the four. "I know better ways to see into the future."
"Oh yeah, like what, the mirror? You're doomed to be a fatass forever, Cartman!" said Kyle.
"Shut your little smart-ass Jew mouth, Kahl!"
Kyle only scowled at Cartman. Then he ungloved his own hands and walked over to Stan. "What do mine say?"
"Read mine after!" Kenny chimed in.
Taking Kyle's bare hands in his own, Stan studied them, his fingers tracing down the various streaks on his palm.
"Kyle, you're gonna have an average-length life, find true love in your late 20s, and earn lots of money like your dad."
"Sweet, dude!" the Jew said excitedly.
"The hell? You can't possibly learn that much by looking at a fucking hand," cursed Cartman as he marched over to the huddle he was left out of, totally not interested at all.
"Yeah you can, dude. People get paid money just for reading other peoples' palms," replied Stan. "Okay Kenny, your turn."
The orange-clad boy stripped his hands free of his brown gloves, allowing Stan to work his magic.
"Kenny, where's your lifeline?" asked Stan, confused.
"My what?"
"Your lifeline. See Kyle's? It's this line here," he said, grabbing Kyle's hand and pointing to a line that stretched along from above his thumb down to his wrist.
"I don't have a lifeline?" Kenny was bemused.
"Kenny should so have a lifeline. He hasn't died in ages!" argued Kyle in disbelief.
"But he doesn't," shrugged Stan. "Anyways. This line says you're gonna be rich... Shit, Kenny, you're gonna be rich!"
"Wohoo!"
"What?!" yelled Cartman obnoxiously. "Okay, I won't have any of this anymore! See this, Kenneh? See this glove?" asked Cartman, picking up one of Kenny's stray gloves. "See this hole that I can just stick my finger through? It's screaming that you're damn poor!"
"Chill out, dude! You don't know how Kenny's future will turn out," said Stan bitterly.
"Yeah, ever heard of the idea of rags to riches?" Kyle added.
"I can prove to you Kenneh's gonna be a poor, desperate rat," claimed Cartman, his tone the smuggest it could be. Once he took hold of both of Kenny's gloves, he flaunted them in Kenny's face before he launched them into the street. They landed with a solid smack.
"My gloves!" cried Kenny.
The remaining three boys snickered in amusement as they watched their friend scurry over to the middle of the strip of black asphalt to retrieve his hole-y gloves. As he bent over to pick them up, the bus arrived, running him completely over.
"Oh my god, they killed Kenny!"
"You bastards."
A/N: Mmmm, pretty predictable ending, I know. Tied with Kyle, Kenny is my favorite character. I'm glad it's normal to kill him off otherwise, I would never! And you know? The lifeline on your palm doesn't indicate the length of someone's life at all! But people like to believe so anyway. I remember I did when I was a kid.